


Parallel lines

by Jackpotgirl1, twosetmeridian



Category: Twosetviolin
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22906006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackpotgirl1/pseuds/Jackpotgirl1, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosetmeridian/pseuds/twosetmeridian
Summary: All their life, Brett Yang and Eddy Chen have been friends, together for better or for worse. Close, but they continue to miss each other, again and again, and again.Maybe they were never meant to meet at all, forever parallel lines. Going the same direction, never touching, never crossing.And that's the greatest tragedy of all.---A collaborative by twosetmeridian and jackpotgirl
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 12
Kudos: 123





	1. Point A

**Author's Note:**

> A collaborative with @twosetmeridian
> 
> Original work from my wattpad.

There was something Eddy wasn't telling him.

Of course, they were two separate entities, no matter how much they were intertwined in almost every aspect of their lives, no matter how much people knew them as _Brett-and-Eddy_ , no spaces in between. Both of them still valued privacy; both of them were still completely unknowable to each other. The fact remained-there was something Eddy wasn't telling him, and it was altogether unsettling.

"You okay?" Eddy's question pulled Brett out of his thoughts, and he promptly shook his head, smiled as convincingly as he could. The shorter man burrowed his nose deeper into the scarf wrapped around his throat and tried his best not to shiver under the cold autumn spell.  
Brett felt antsy whenever he couldn't tell what Eddy's immediate thoughts were. It was like a ghost at the back of his mind, haunting him with the thought of that which he could never reach. He didn't like secrets between them, even if they were normal and sometimes necessary; he wanted to know Eddy down to his very bones. Was that too much to ask for?

"You're feeling cold, aren't you," said the other man, shaking his head. "Here, hold on." As casual as ever, Eddy slipped off his jacket from his broad shoulders, wrapped it around Brett's form as if the gesture cost him nothing. Fighting back a blush, the shorter man did not argue against the act of chivalry. Instead, he buried himself under the weight of his friend's coat and smiled wide.

(Delighted and distracted as he was, Brett did not recognize the faint perfume clinging to the fabric: distinctly not Eddy's, distinctly feminine.)

• • •

Brett couldn't remember when he fell in love with the man he called his best friend, his other half in Twoset. It wasn't something he could pinpoint at a specific moment in time; there was no fateful second when his heart proclaimed _yes, yes, that man, that's him._

It just was that: a fact of life. The sun rose in the east and set in the west. The sky was blue. Water was wet. Brett Yang was in love with Eddy Chen.

It wasn't that hard to understand.

• • •

They were both lovers of that majestic beverage known as bubble tea, but Brett hadn't known Eddy memorized exactly how he liked his drink made.

"At half sweetness with a little bit of mousse and extra tapioca pearls." Eddy rattled off Brett's order as if he had taken the whole thing to heart, and good lord, that shouldn't be so affecting, but it was.

His friend always did things like these, the smallest details about him taken into safekeeping for whenever the knowledge was needed. Did those mean anything? Should he read deeper into those clues and come to a conclusion?

Before he could make up his mind, Eddy playfully swatted him to get out of the queue and find them a table. Brett obeyed, as always.

• • •

This love could destroy him one day, he thought. Well, he didn't just think it; he _knew_ it.

• • •

Brett surfed the web aimlessly on Eddy's laptop, clicking at tabs with a listless gaze, utterly bored as he waited for the other man to come back from getting groceries. By chance, he clicked on an open tab in the internet browser, and lo and behold: tickets for two to Germany.

_What the hell?_ Brett peered closer to the screen, confusion in his gut. He wasn't aware of any planned trips in Eddy's schedule. Surely-Eddy must be getting ready to tell him something? He definitely wasn't imagining these plane tickets, so what else were they possibly for?  
Oh, god. Did he know?  
Brett's phone vibrated. He looked over and checked the incoming message.

**[6:23] eddy:** _wanna go out tonight?_

Was this the way to whatever Eddy wanted to tell him? Was this the secret his friend had been keeping from him? Brett didn't need to think about it; he readily sent a _yeah, let's_ and prepared for whatever was to come.  
He hoped to high heaven it would be good news.


	2. Point B

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original work on my wattpad.  
> A collaborative with @twosetmeridian

The flashing neon strobe lights in the dark club bounced off the drunken dancing bodies on the dance floor. Skin exposed girls, eyes hunting men. Hands wandering men, feeling intoxicated girls. His head hurt at the scene, 'Unsightly.' The rage club music blasted on the speakers didn't help either.

Eddy said it was a friend's welcome party. Of course, a friend and Eddy invited him, so he came. Even he's way past his 'party boy' prime, yeah, he came.

Seated alone in the most secluded seat on the club drinking iced tea-infused beer. His eyes roamed the establishment, from the giggling girls drinking, to the group of rowdy boys trolling, to his group of friends, to Eddy.

To Eddy who was on the dance floor, having fun with their friends. They moved and headbanged to the music. Laughed at their silly dances, 'Damn musician bones can't twerk.'

All while he avoided the gazes of hungry predators who'd gnaw on him anytime. Brett took another sip, he'd have to keep an eye on him and turn his own defenses up.

But it's been too long, and he already chugged down lots. 'It's time to go.' So he stood up, called out to Eddy and mouthed, "I'm going."

The taller man moved toward him. Smiling, with breath smells of alcohol and not-so looking drunk he answered, "I'll walk you home."

It was when they were out of the place. They had to walk separate ways. Eddy grabbed his arm and said, "It's closer... my place."

-

Then it happened.

Both influenced by drunkenness from alcohol or the other. In a room, where all the windows and doors are closed off from the outside's yonder. Moans and sighs escaped their mouths for they have a war of their own. On the bed, between the sheets, where they fought against each other for dominance, for supremacy, for power.

It was until a hand pinned both his hands above his head. Brett struggled to break free from the other's grasp but faltered. Because his drunkenness made his brain a mush, because it made him extremely weak, because it made him hungry, lusty, for him.

The other's tongue slid into his mouth, the taste of alcohol lingered on the muscle. It played all the way it pleased, with no resistance or whatsoever, his own tongue danced along with his.

The man's free hand went under his shirt, slowly, made its way to his chest. "Mmm..." Brett hummed as the hand glided over his skin. The man hovered above him made dips on the bed where his knees, one between Brett's legs, rested. The calloused hand roamed, caressed all of his soft and smooth. All was slow, and God, Brett hated it so.

His vision was blurry without his glasses, might have been tossed aside to God knows where, but he knew who the person on top of him was. He knew because of the low registered moans and whispers told him so. He knew because of the taste of the beer they were drinking earlier on the other's tongue told him so. He knew because of the feel of the hands as it roamed his clothed chest told him so.

The other person was _Eddy_.

"Brett..." A moan escaped the man as he tightened his grasp to Brett's hands. Sucking on the tongue of the willing body below him, tasting euphoria. His hand from Brett's chest went to the neck, rested there, felt the haste of Brett's pulse under his fingertips.

Brett wanted to lift his arms, to wrap around Eddy but he can't, for the man was larger than him, stronger than him, or that his body defied his brain's dictation. The hands stayed put above his head, pinned, unmoving.

The hand on his neck traveled down again to the hem of his shirt. He lifted it until the clothing exposed Brett's white bare stomach and chest. "Cute nipples," Eddy's free hand then trailed down there, pinched, rolled one between his fingers.

"Mmm..." The lips went to Brett's neck next, pressing a deep kiss to his pulse point, "Ahh... Eddy..." Then the tongue licked the same spot, another moan came out. Brett bit his lip, 'God damn it, Eddy, I--!' The spot was sucked on. Hard.

"Ah! Oh, God!" Brett gasped. His whole body arched as Eddy was making a masterpiece on his neck.

Eddy's body tingled, that one hell sweet of a moan that Brett let out stirred something inside him. In a luscious sultry voice, he whispered, "I want to eat you."

Eddy's hand snaked down to Brett's pants. His lips went back to the other's wanting mouth, muffling the succeeding moans he let out. With that very hand, he freed the confined hard erection of the man pinned below. The prize.

He unconsciously let out another lewd moan, only to be swallowed by Eddy's mouth. The man's lips on his upturned, he smirked into the kiss. Then followed by the feeling of a warm large hand surrounded his member. Which in return, broadened Brett's legs apart.

He traced the silhouette of the shorter's cock. Eddy stroked it lightly, up, down, squeezed it randomly and Brett would twitch or moan out loud every time he did so. In which he decided to tease him further.

Brett's eyes widened when the hand on his member changed interest, his hole. "Wha- Aaah...?" Brett wanted to protest, but what Eddy did next changed his mind.

A finger drew slow, light circles around Brett's puckered hole. Those circles turned into spirals, gradually getting smaller, teasingly getting closer to his...

"Haahh..." the man beneath exhaled. Relaxed, for the finger was doing a good job. It won't go further than the doorway. Brett lifted his hips or sighed a "go on" into the kiss, but the stupid little finger fucking won't. In return, he chewed on Eddy's tongue in frustration.

Next, the finger changed its subject. Again, it drew circles but on the wrinkled skin of the shorter's balls and every time Brett twitched or jerked, it brought a grin to Eddy's lips.

And suddenly, Eddy released both of Brett's hands from his grip, leaving a handprint on the white skin, then removed his mouth from the wet lips of the man. A thin string of saliva that trailed down from his tongue to Brett's formed. And as swiftly as he saw it, as soon it was gone. Panting, he gazed at the man below him.

A whine escaped Brett from the immediate loss of contact, and Eddy smiled at that.

His eyes scanned the man below him. All of Brett mesmerized Eddy. His light skin, slippery from sweat. His voice, sweet as honey. His lips glossy, swollen and red. His chest, that rise, and fall to his breathing. His eyes half-lidded gazed back at Eddy.

In Eddy's mind, 'I'd fuck you senseless if you were sober.'

Brett closed his eyes, to rest. Except for his breathing that was beginning to normalize, he didn't hear anything. Until he felt the other shift on the bed. 'Eddy's going to leave me like this? What was he trying to achieve here?' Brett's fist tightened and he bit his lip. Tears filled his eyes and were threatening to fall until,

"Nngh! Aaah!" Brett's eyes swung open and rolled back instantly, his legs spread farther apart, his spine arched dangerously.

He swallowed him whole, and slowly sucked him back up. Tasting a different kind of Brett. Eddy received a good reaction, he then repeats, repeats, and repeat.

With his now free hands, Brett entangled his fingers on Eddy's locks. Tugging, pulling when waves of pleasure enveloped him. "Fuck, Eddy, fuck!" He moaned.

The smell of Brett's sex engulfed him, turned him on a hundred times over.

With the tongue that was inside his mouth earlier, with the mouth that whispered his name earlier, with the lips that kissed him earlier, now on his member, he moved without thinking, slammed his hips to Eddy. 'Fuck, I'm gonna come!'

Gagging, Eddy pinned down Brett's hips to keep him from thrusting into his mouth. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead to the glistening pale skin of the man below him as he intakes throbbing Brett over and over.

With his sides pinned down, Brett let out a frustrated sigh, made pleading noises, pulled Eddy's hair to let go of his God damn hips, "I want to-- Aah!"

Obviously, whatever it was, Eddy didn't allow him to. Instead, he quickened his pace, sucked harder and buried him deeper. The delicious scent of Brett's sex grew thicker. Eddy's fingers sank deep into his hips that he knew would leave red marks on the pale skin later.

Brett's back arched and eyes fluttered back in pleasure. Taking in sharp breaths, God he really wanted to move, roll his hips, fuck, ram his cock into Eddy.

The bobbing of Eddy's head continued until Brett released salty-warm cum to the back of his mouth.

A long groan escaped Brett.

Eddy swallowed.

Boneless and shaking, Brett released Eddy's hair and let his arms free-fall to his sides. He concentrated on catching his breath.

Brett hummed low as Eddy licked his member clean and tucked him back into his pants.

Eddy then stood up, reached for the door, and turned around for the last time to look at the beautiful mess of a friend he did a member on. He grinned and said, "Goodnight, Brett."

Then the door was shut.


	3. Point C

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original work from my wattpad.  
> A collaborative with @twosetmeridian

Then there was that.

Nothing.

The next day proceeds as if nothing happened that night.

Even so, Brett eagerly relished those thoughts, those dirty thoughts, those feelings, those yearning feelings. Those he shouldn't have had.

Those quiet sighs, sharp gasps, and breathy moans kept repeating in his head. Both his and Eddy's. Those he shouldn't have heard or mumbled.

Hands, large and calloused, that roamed his body. His chest, hard and broad, that felt so fiery. Those lips, plump and tasty, that made him feisty. And all the other things that shouldn't have...

One. Two. Release.

With a wet plop, it landed. He closed his eyes and grunted. After, Brett turned the shower knob to flush his mess on the flooring.

"Shit!" he mumbled as his eyes darted to the clear blob that slowly entered the drain along with the water. He bit his lip, "Fuck it!"

Not again! This was the nth time he did it with those wild obscenities running through his head. _Their obscenity._

Breathing heavy, he carried on with his shower. To clean himself, to cleanse himself. Under the cold rain of water, he scrubbed strong, hard until his skin became red and angry.

Angry. Brett was angry. Angry with how he let it happened. Angry on himself on how he did nothing to prevent it to happen.

He wanted to cry. Really, he wanted to cry. But all reason just left him and only one thing remained. Though it seemed impossible.

_'What if Eddy means it?'_

\---

There was something lurking at the back of Eddy's mind, something like a hazy memory, but he wasn't quite sure what it was.

He woke up in the morning with a sore throat and puffed lips, all cherry-red and slick. His muscles ached every time he overexerted himself; he almost cried out in relief when the hot spray of the shower kicked in to soothe his body. And so he stood there in the bathroom for way longer than was necessary, eyes unseeing as he reflected inward on the shattered-mirror shards of his memories. Those from last night were particularly opaque.

There was something lurking at the back of Eddy's mind, and it was decidedly _sexual._

Flashes of skin against skin, feverish moans, the stirrings of longing and hunger in the pit of his stomach-there were echoes of _something_ in his brain, and that wasn't even the strangest part.

He knew what Brett's mouth tasted like, and he didn't know how in the hell _that_ happened.

Eddy stumbled out of the bathroom, fingers absentmindedly brushing against his swollen lips as he dressed for the day. Upon his nightstand, his phone vibrated. In one smooth motion, Eddy snapped it up, a smile spread across his lips at the sight of the caller ID. He placed it against his ear, "Yeah, babe?"

After a few moments, he was settled on the matter: this little dilemma could be dealt with later. He had a date to attend.

\---

A cold early morning.

Brett, out of habit, brought himself to the coffee shop. Yawning while he walked like a zombie on a hunt for caffeine, yeah, coffee. He clutched on to his jacket, he should have worn more.

'Is Eddy up yet?' he thought. The two always go to the shop around this time of the day. Brett didn't get any message that he'd be on his way, he shrugged it off as Eddy would be sleeping in.

On way there, two houses across, he had a glimpse of the familiar shiny black-brown hair. Eyes wide on the sight, he stopped in his tracks.

Eddy was on the way of the adjoining concrete pavement he walked on. Going to the coffee shop too maybe. Panicked, he turned around. He'd just go back, silently hoped his friend won't see him. A few steps, then,

"Brett!"

Oh, shit! Slowly, Brett turned around. Eddy walked towards him smiling, skipping on his steps. His light hair bounced as he did.

"Going to the shop?" the taller asked.

Brett breathed out a hesitant, "Yeah..."

They walked along the same road. Eddy was all smiles, greeting people they knew on the way. While Brett, all deadpan, he concentrated to keep Eddy running on his mind. He's right there, he walked beside him, damn it!

Their hands brushed swiftly as they were side by side. Brett instinctively jumped and moved his hand away. Looked down to his own two feet.

He held his own hand, ran his thumb against the part that touched with Eddy's. 'Did he feel it too?' he asked himself. To answer, he shook his head 'no.'

It was then when Brett decided to pace his steps slower. Until Eddy was leading. Until he was behind.

The distance between, an arm's reach.

Eddy was just friendly. A little touchy, yeah, but in a way, a friend would. And that confused him, because of that night.

It was just the alcohol maybe. It should be. No one in their right mind would do that to their _best friend,_ unless...

'No,' his mind declared, 'No.' It was just the alcohol, yeah. Just that. And it's better if he shut his mouth about it because Eddy looked like didn't mind.

Brett's body felt cold, he knew it's not because of the early morning chill. He stopped walking. Stared at the broad of his friend's back. He convinced himself, 'Eddy didn't mind.'

He proved himself wrong when Eddy turned around to him. He asked, "Why are you behind?" The taller reached out, cocked his head to the empty space beside him, "Come here."

He blinked. Seemed to be surprised by the gesture. Brett nervously adjusted his glasses. What? Why?

Eddy stayed still, waited for Brett to come over. "Hm?"

I should just... right? Brett asked himself. He nodded, 'Yeah, I shouldn't mind either.' Then he walked towards the open of Eddy's arm.

When he's close enough, Eddy wrapped the arm on the shorter's shoulder, gave him a squeeze and a toothy grin, "That's better!"

"Ye-yeah..." he stuttered. Like the fast beating of his heart, like the pink flush on his cheeks his body agreed.

Like the warmth of the man that enveloped him, like the scent of his perfume that calmed him, his brain: 'Yeah, that's better.'

\---

When the explosion came, no one was prepared for it. Maybe because it didn't start with anything other than a quiet night in, and the arrival of a guest Brett had never known the existence of until now.

Eddy swung the door open, unheeding of the darkness within and any eyes possibly lurking in the gloom, and laughed. "I'll call you tomorrow, sweetheart." He gave the girl a deep kiss, pushed her up right there against the doorway, and then hugged her before she left.

He never noticed Brett in the room. If he had, he would've never tried the loving stunt.

The moment he turned around and shut the door he met a pair of eyes. Eddy can't decern how they looked from the distance, from the dark, but he knew he was looking at him. Straight right through him. Frozen, Eddy stood. Unmoving.

It was when Brett walked up to him, Eddy felt his throat ran dry. He swallowed.

The bare of the shorter's feet kissed the floor, made sounds against the cold tiles as he walked towards him. Slowly. Eyes fixed on Eddy. When he passed by the open door of the living room, light illuminated his face and features. He seemed calm, too calm, but when the glasses-clad man reached the end of the lighted part of the hallway darkness engulfed him again. His face, his expression, Eddy didn't know.

Brett stopped. He's closer now. The distance between, an arm's reach.

Eddy opened his mouth to say something but stopped he heard his friend whispered,

"When did you stop telling me things?"

Eddy stared down at the sliver of air between their bodies, shook his head after a few beats of silence. "It's new. I'm in love. I didn't want to mess with something I myself didn't fully understand by telling others just yet." He raised his gaze to meet his friend's. "You know what I mean, right?"

Brett shook his head and his shaky voice voiced out, almost breaking, "What am I to you, Eddy?"

The world hung on the edge of a knife. They breathed the same air, waited in the same empty space beyond all words.

Eddy finally gave his answer. It felt all too much like a death knoll. "You're my best friend."

"Yeah, I am your friend," Brett took a step forward, eyes looked upon the taller's, and the other took an unconscious step back, "I'm your best friend, Eddy."

He let out a shaky breath. With steps still moved backward and Brett's forward, Eddy's eyes darted. He searched the shorter's face for anything, remorse, grimace, confusion. None.

The soft thud of his back to the main door broke the silence between them. It reminded him that they were in the hallway of his home. Their eyes scanned each other amidst the dark of the foyer. Eddy moistened his drying lip and silence again followed.

And then broken,

"I'm sorry..." Brett breathed. "I-I misunderstood, crazy ideas ran through my head," he swallowed. "I made assumptions, because of--"

Brett cut himself short. To prevent any possible ruin. About to step back, turn back, run away when Eddy stepped forward. A sudden hand clamped onto his wrist. "Assumptions?" The taller man's eyes were wild, uncertain. "What assumptions?"

The large calloused hand on the glasses-clad man's wrist pulled him, arms high. The hand's grip was strong, reddened the pale skin. Eddy was scared of what he didn't know and what his friends' thoughts were. He did calculations in his head. Did he do something to him he was unaware of?

"You-," Brett bit his lip to hide his trembling and breathed, "you don't remember anything, do you?"

"Remember—?" God, what was he going on about? Eddy didn't remember _anything._

_Or did he?_

Those flashes again, the decidedly sexual images displayed once more at the forefront of his mind. This time, Eddy threw aside everything else and focused on those images alone.

And there he was. There Eddy was, pressing his hands against familiar skin, laving his tongue against the most intimate of places his friend had allowed him to. His best friend. _Brett._

"I—I don't remember anything," Eddy replied, but his voice shook, and that was all too telling.

Unconvinced, Brett withdrew his hand the moment Eddy's grip loosened a bit. The swing of the shorter's hand had been too uncontrolled, both in speed and trajectory.

Slap.

Skin against skin. Brett's hand struck Eddy's cheek.

Brett gasped, eyes widened. He stepped in closer, the shorter's eyes wandered to the reddened cheek, the clenched jaw, to his friend's eyes covered in the dark with his hair. Shaky hands about to reach to the taller's face, "I'm so--"

Eddy shook his head, quelling any forthcoming words from Brett's mouth. "Stop. Just stop, okay? I don't understand—what aren't _you_ telling me? What do you know? What are all these questions you've been shoving at my door?"

Denial was the best cure for a mistake they had both taken part in, and Eddy was not about to be the one to speak it out loud. Whatever sacrilegious act they had both committed—the truth of it was not going to come from his lips. For the sake of the heart he had given away to the girl he loved, Eddy was not going to say a word.

And so he laid all the burden on Brett's shoulders: a knife gleaming in the small space between them. "What happened that night?"

Brett took a step back, "No, no, no..." He shook his head, eyes looked for clues, hints. Maybe his friend was lying. His lips trembled when he didn't find any.

This wasn't Eddy.

His hand almost drew blood as his nails dug deep into his palm. He stopped. Brett stopped looking.

"You, me, we fucked."

And then there it was, finally: the truth spilled crimson across the floor. Hearing it didn't make Eddy feel any better.

" _Shit_." The taller man closed his eyes, ran his hand through his hair. "So we did, huh? We were drunk." The pieces began falling into place. "Got home from the nightclub wrecked, and then we—fell into bed together?"

Maniacal laughter echoed through the hallway, "Yeah, yeah," Brett continued to laugh, "that's what happened," tears from laughing too hard escaped. He wiped them with the hand, wrist, that we're still red from his friend's grip earlier.

And he abruptly stopped.

His gaze pierced Eddy and in a low voice, he said, "You shouldn't have done _that_."

"You—" Eddy cut himself off before he could continue, the words all dried at his tongue. "No. No, you're right," he said, burying his face in his hands. "I shouldn't have. I was drunk, and it was all a mistake. _Fuck_ , I—I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

But Brett hadn't pushed him away, had he? Eddy didn't remember if his friend had tried to stop it.

He had to know. "Didn't—you didn't try to stop me at all?"

"So it's my fault now, huh?!" Brett bit his lip and sharply turned his head to the side. As quickly as he turned, his eyes went back to Eddy, "It's because of you-!"

The shorter took a deep breath and swallowed, tried to calm down his shaking. Failed. "You did things! Things you shouldn't!" He exclaimed eyes scanned Eddy's. "Those sweet words that easily spew out of your mouth! The way you're so touchy and even your gazes, the way you--! God damn it, Eddy! It's in everything you do!" He repeatedly pointed at Eddy's chest. Hard.

Brett shouted, pointed, pinned all to Eddy, "And that-whatever the fuck we did was! You don't do that to a friend!"

Eddy didn't move. He let Brett.

In a voice with a pang of hurt in them, Brett continued, "To a person who's _only_ your friend!"

The accusations spiraled through the air like knives aimed to the heart, unchallenged—Eddy was in no position to deny what he had done.

But still: for the first time in his life, a seed of hatred bloomed in his chest, all in the name of his friend. Brett had thoroughly absolved himself of all blame, and that—that was _fucking_ unfair.

"And you didn't push me away, did you," he replied lowly, almost a whisper. "Now, what does that say about you?"

_Did you assume something that wasn't ever there?_

Eddy didn't wait for a response; he continued on, moving away from Brett's reach. "I'm sorry. I know it's unforgivable, what I did. I'll take all the blame as I've always done. But all I want now," his gaze flickered, steel glinting in the low light, "is to forget _that_ ever happened."

And so with those words, it was done and dealt with.

-

Within a fortnight, Eddy moved out of the house, escaping the sickening miasma that had descended upon the two of them ever since that fateful evening. Brett allowed this—by this point, he'd become numb to everything.

At some point, he decided to move on. What logical sense is there in eternal torture at the hands of someone who could not, _would not_ save him?

For the sake of their brainchild, of Twoset, the two men stayed in touch. They resumed working together, but they had become just that: detached colleagues. The chemistry sizzled out. The fans would notice, but their content remained of high quality, and so Twoset continued to grow.

-

When Eddy got engaged, Brett would find out only through the sight of something gleaming on the other man's finger. When Eddy proposed, Brett left the wedding invitation in the mailbox for weeks and never once looked at it. When Eddy got married, he received only a generic card of congratulations, his once friend's messy scrawl signing only his name and nothing else.

And so they continued on with their own stories, entangled but still pointedly separate. And so they lived, two passing ships in the night that would never reach the same port, two parallel lines that would never intersect.

For the longest time, in the darkest pit of their hearts lay regret. But soon, that too fizzled away, until there was nothing left but resounding silence.


End file.
